


The Only Good Sith

by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Universe, Dubious Consent, Force Ghost(s), Gen, Implied Mind Rape, Jedi Sheev Palpatine, M/M, Manipulation, Multiple Endings, Sith Jar Jar Binks, Sith Shenanigans, all the sexual situations are between sheev and jar jar, because this wouldn't be one of my fics if i didn't kill someone, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalEclipse/pseuds/EclipseMidnight
Summary: Jedi Shadow Sheev Palpatine is assigned to follow the Jinn-Kenobi team to Naboo. He's not thrilled to be sure, but he's prepared for almost anything--except the true resurgence of the Sith. This begins what he sees as an elaborate game with the Sith, but is he just falling into his net? And what will happen with his new padawan, who's been thrown into the middle of all of this?Or, the story of how the only good Sith is a dead one, and how we try to rationalize otherwise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Lily for pulling together yet another successful SWBB and Fallenangel87 for being my beta! And Kat, for starting me on this glorious monstrosity of a pairing, even if it means I'm stranded on this raft made from driftwood at night. 
> 
> Chapters 1-5 are the main story. Chapters 6, 7 and 8 are three alternate endings that pick up immediately after Chapter 5, mostly because there were so many possibilities that I couldn't just choose one. Feel free to decide which one you prefer!
> 
> I know it's been a minute since I posted anything, but life does the thing it sometimes does, and I'm working on more stories to come soon I hope! :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it!

He waited in the Council Antechamber, hood pulled up far enough to shadow his face. The only sounds in the room was the breathing of the Temple Guards, who were staring blaster bolts into his head, and the dark whispers of the gathered Force.  It was disturbed and rippling at him, likely because of something that was happening inside the Council Chambers proper. That was interesting—and, if the Force could spare a stroke of luck, he’d be able to learn the cause quickly.

As providence would have it, it barely took a minute for the doors to be forcefully pushed open, revealing Qui-Gon Jinn in his full maverick glory. He was quickly followed by his baby duckling of a replacement padawan and a small blond boy. A bit old for a new initiate, since by his clothes he wasn’t already of the Temple, though perhaps a boy from one of the more distant splinter temples they collectively pretended didn’t exist? None of them were particularly peaceful in the Force, but, for just a moment, he caught a small taste of the sheer _power_ in the boy. Of course he was some kind of Jedi-affiliate, with that Light. From Jedha, maybe, or even Corellia.

And then the group passed the Temple Guards, likely heading for the lifts, and he got the nod to go in. He closed the doors securely behind him with a touch of the Force, and took down his hood for the first time in three days.

“Masters,” he bowed.

“Knight Palpatine, it’s good to have you back,” Windu replied. “Was your mission successful?”

Sheev smiled charmingly. “Yes, Master Windu. The pirates did not know anything about what they had in their hands, and I managed to destroy the object in question before they could figure it out. The Centares Planetary Police were credited with taking down their organization shortly after, so my involvement will not be traced to the Jedi.” There. Not a blip in the Force as he spoke.

“Very good, is that to hear,” Yoda chimed in. “Injured, were you?”

“No, Master. I am in good health. Has something more come along?”

“Indeed, it has,” Windu drew Sheev’s attention back to him. “This assignment requires some of your specific expertise and experience, as well as some delicacy and diplomacy. We realize that you have just returned from an assignment, but it is also time sensitive, and we would be grateful it you would take it.”

 _Grateful?_ The Council didn’t usually lay it on so thick, not when they called in Shadows, and especially not when they called _him_ in these days. “What’s the assignment?” he asked quickly.

Windu leaned back, knowing he’s hooked. “Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi are returning Queen Amidala to Naboo, through the Trade Federation’s blockade. On the last leg of their mission, they encountered something of the Dark side of the Force.” He waited for Sheev to nod before continuing. “We wish for you to go in secret to observe the pair, and bring back observations as to their current mental states and abilities. We would also like you to keep an eye out for possible influence of the Dark sort.”

Sheev carefully kept his face blank. Usually he had his hood to help, but he’d long since learned not to rely on that fully in such situations. “I understand,” he replied.

“Good. You’ll need to leave post-haste, as we would prefer you to be in position and off-radar before they come into range. They’ll all be in the Nubian vessel, so that should be fairly obvious to mark.”

Sheev felt a pang of annoyance, which he hid from the Council’s Force presences. _He absolutely didn’t need these sedentary fools to tell him how to do his job_. And yet, he just bowed and left the room. Without making a scene at the doors either, because he wasn’t Qui-Gon Jinn, and thank the Force for it.

* * *

Sheev landed his vessel on a small asteroid, carefully faced away from the Trade Federation ships, and turned off as many of his non-essential systems as he could bear. There was a message waiting for him that said that the Nubian vessel had left a bare six hours after his. He set the scanner to run before ripping open the meal he’d taken from the Commissary, grimacing a bit at the reheated taste. There wasn’t anything for it, but one would think that with so many Jedi constantly being sent to places where they couldn’t trust the water, or sometimes even the food, there would be better alternatives.

It seemed he was made for eternal disappointment.

The siege pattern was fairly standard for the Trade Federation, which had more retrofitted trading vessels with merchants and the occasional ‘reformed pirate’ than proper warships with captains who knew how to use their guns. They operated more on the principle that if enough people were shooting, even a Jedi wouldn’t be lucky enough to get through. Crude, but often effective.

Sheev mapped out the probable entry points in less than five minutes before he pushed aside the work to keep an eye out for the Force. On the surface, it seemed about as peaceful as one could expect.

But Sheev had done a lot of research on Naboo, once, in an age long since past. He doubted anyone else remembered, and after DuCrion he’d destroyed all physical evidence of it, but he’d memorized enough. Two species, one of them essentially gravity-adapted humans, descended from a group of pacifists who sought escape from a war long since forgotten, and some of the original residents, an amphibious species protruding eyes and ears. They hadn’t mixed overmuch, originally from the way the tensions of colonization had driven the Gungans fully into the water, and later out of custom, but both were relatively peaceful with each other and the galaxy at large.

There was nothing about Naboo that was uniquely problematic for the Trade Federation, and it was on the Mid-Rim which meant bad press in spades. It may have supported interstellar taxation, but didn’t levy the kind of taxes themselves to make stopping them worthwhile. Or the kind of expensive, exotic exports that would be heavily taxed. A peaceful planet wouldn’t have the forces to keep them out, true, but they weren’t defenseless either. It was on a major trade route, but honestly seemed like an odd place for the Trade Federation to try to make into a hub.

In short, he still didn’t know why Naboo was chosen as the site of an invasion, only that there was more to the story than what he knew.

He sought deeper, searching for the dark crevices one could anchor a veneer of normality to. Every bit of armor has a clasp, of course. He might not be able to unclasp it, not without announcing himself and drawing the attention of whatever set this up, but he could learn at least how it was put together, and that was nearly as valuable. Especially if he could replicate it later.

An hour later, he thought he may have found something. He didn’t dare prod it too far, but there was definitely some kind of shield put up by a rather stealthy and powerful force user. Maybe even as powerful as the boy Jinn had been carting around. His mouth watered as he observed it. That was a power he definitely wanted in his hands.

He felt at the barrier for some time more, before deciding to rest until Jinn showed up. It wasn’t as if the situation was likely to change until then, after all.

* * *

An alarm reverberated through the small ship, and Sheev shot awake, only to realize it was the one he’d set for himself, nothing serious. Someday, he would be able to sleep regularly somewhere that didn’t leave kricks in his neck, he mused, but if he was going to get his hands on knowledge….it was better to do things this way for now. Even if he cursed the necessity, because there weren’t many things he would have liked less than to have to watch Jinn.

There was still a half hour before Jinn was scheduled to show, so he quickly reached back into the Force, towards the shield he’d found earlier. On second sight, it looked like an entirely different projection. It was still fairly solid, but there were some fluctuations tinged with a bit of the Dark. Not an artefact then.

He didn’t know if he was disappointed or not—he probably wouldn’t get to deal with whoever caused it before Jinn scared them off, but he dearly wanted to. There weren’t any Dark sects native to Naboo, he would know. It could be the Trade Federation, but they publicly eschewed Force users and Jedi particularly as mystics from a bygone era.

His dash flashed a five-minute warning, and Sheev forced himself into the present, readying the ships systems to move as soon as he had to. Not thirty seconds after he’d finished had the Nubian vessel come out of hypermode and made a dive for the blockade. He grimaced. Why did Jinn have to do everything the hard way?

Eight heart-stopping minutes later, and he’d somehow survived without being detected, cloaking himself with a mix of technology, the Force, and the Nubian vessel’s exhaust. Once he got within the atmosphere, he changed to disguising himself as debris, watching as Jinn’s ship descended upon the middle of nowhere. He himself circled back towards Theed. There was no way he was going to get much further there without being noticed, and he was hardly going to risk being found and killed. Besides, there was something to be said for intelligence by blending in.

As he turned away, he prodded the Force once more. The shakier field seemed like it might be there, but more overpowering was the presence of a solid behemoth of a presence. Power like few things he’d ever felt. Not quite as powerful as Jinn’s boy, he could intensely feel the boy’s presence even from this distance, but marshalled and controlled.

Not a lone darksider. A cult, maybe, with multiple presences hiding behind those shields? Or maybe just two? It was hard to tell, but he hoped to be able to search for it awhile, while Jinn was out of range.

He just had to get there first.

Thirty klicks out of Theed, he’s shot out of the air. Too good at looking like a bit of rubbish, he grimaced as he tried for a controlled fall. Or maybe the planet was better defended than he’d thought. Even if his cover was blown, he’d be damned if this was how he died.

When he skidded to a stop on the ground, he’d thankfully only been a bit bruised around the edges. But the ship fell like it was jumping into its grave, and he’s not certain that any part of it would be worth selling as more than scrap.

He took a few minutes to scavenge for his rations and water, double-check that he had his communicator before checking the sun and setting off. The weather was relatively mild, but unless there was a speeder he could steal he had hours of walking ahead of him. He’d be in the proper suburbs soon, if his research had been correct, but the family who had abandoned him was from the other side of the city, and there would be no point in going out that far to come back.

The Force shifted, and Sheev forced himself to keep moving even as he opened to it. What had changed? Jinn was still far away, and it was still hard to tell where the bigger shield originated from. But the smaller—the smaller one was letting off sharp currents of Dark. He smiled. He could track that.

He shifted his attention so that he was walking towards the Dark presence rather than in the Palace’s general direction. It didn’t seem like much of a change, and he wondered at that. Had the Trade Federation actually come across a Darksider? And was it a coincidence, or the real reason the Council had assigned him to this place? Then, was it another test?

Bah. He’d passed all of their tests with flying colors. It had been easy when they’d been so obvious about them, and that was years ago.

Still, turning over the problem made the hours pass, and the Palace was soon in sight. With the blockade and imminent invasion, most were keeping to themselves, which suited Sheev just fine. The only problem was that that also meant there weren’t any speeders laying around—and Jinn had finally made his move.

The Force at the Palace was disturbed by death. And Sheev hurried up on the last leg as fighters started deploying from a hangar bay. First, many in formations, and a lone one after with Jinn’s boy. But Jinn and Kenobi were inside still, so Sheev followed the trail of droids and bodies they’d left. As powerful as the boy was, the Force was more interesting inside, and Jinn _was_ technically his assignment.

He kept following their trail, all the way to a generator complex. They were fairly deep inside, so it wasn’t easy to see what was going on, but he thought he could make out Jinn and Kenobi within some kind of ray shielding, as well as another sentient, who was wielding—was that a red lightsaber? Quarrels aside, he took a moment to study the structure of the room. He had to get closer.

And then a presence made itself known at his back, a long hand curled around his neck before he could react. Not human.

“Mesa wouldn’t do dat if mesa were yousa,” the newcomer squeezed slightly.

Gungan, then. A force-sensitive gungan? It wasn’t unheard of, not exactly, but it hadn’t happened in quite some time either. The hand removed itself, but a bit of applied Force showed clearly that he was not in control of this encounter.

And then there was a cry, and his attention wrenched back to the fight that Jinn and Kenobi were having with the possible Sith. Or just Kenobi at this point—it looked like Jinn had been skewered. Sheev’s lips thinned. He may have borne a grudge against the man, but his death significantly lowered the chances of his own survival. Especially if his only potential backup was a shell-shocked padawan who didn’t even know he was there.

He tried to get a feel for his attacker in the Force. He was nearly certain that this was the origin of the stronger barrier in the Force, with perhaps the other Jinn had fought as the weaker. He had barely touched the barrier before getting another squeeze for his troubles. “Watch,” the gungan instructed, so he did.

Kenobi, for all of Jinn’s faults, was holding up better than he might have guessed, even though the Sith with the lightstaff definitely held the advantage. Especially if—and he wasn’t sure about this—Kenobi had started injured, and wasn’t just limping. And there didn’t seem to be a good way to get the better of the Darksider at his back without his help. Sith take them all, they were going to die.

The fight below went on, each participant raining frenzied blows on the other. Sheev forcefully kept himself blank, but he nearly slumped with relief when Kenobi got the better of the Darksider he was fighting, and cut him in half before moving back towards Jinn. _Look up_ , he thought futilely.

“It seems dat mesa apprentice wasn’t up for da challenge after all,” the gungan mused aloud. “What a pity.”

Sheev grimaced, but kept his silence, watching Kenobi.

“Maybe mesa should take on da one who killed him.” The gungan leaned into him. “Or do yousa think yousa would do better?”

Not a sound.

“It’s a simple choice, Jedi. Either yousa kill him, or yousa die.”

And suddenly, Sheev was physically free to move.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t take advantage of it, not right away. It would be easier to do as the Sith Master had said, for now at least. Kenobi was distracted, Jinn was dead. He refused to die like this, on an unimportant mission defending a child he did not care for, who would also likely die in the process. It was only a matter of time until the Council discovered his Grey perspective. And the Sith was powerful. But he was still a Jedi, and the Jedi way would be to fight and kill the Sith. Perhaps Kenobi could even return and be a support. And, perhaps even more importantly, using the Dark risked not only his place with the Jedi, but also his sanity. He could carve out a life if he’d had to, but he needed his brain for that.

But what to do? The Light of the Force was silent on the matter, and that was as damning as the rest of what was running through his mind. He wanted to live. And he could live without the Jedi.

But could he live with himself for dipping into the Dark, knowing full well that using it meant courting madness? He thought about his collection of texts and artefacts, taken from previous missions. They were carefully examined but only so far. He was originally constrained by the need not to be seen with Dark smudges on his personal bit of the Force, but he’d soon seen just how much destruction the Dark could wreak on the unwary who used it. He wanted to be powerful, but he prized his mind above nearly anything else he possessed, or which could be offered to him in truth. The Light may have been a sterile room, but the Dark was a prison cell with an insane inmate.

Moreover, the Sith would discard him regardless of his value if something better came along. Like, maybe a powerful child he could mold, instead of an adult prepared to scheme against him. The Jedi might try to ‘fix’ him, but until he killed one of their own, they wouldn’t retaliate in that way.

The gungan stepped closer again, pressing Darkness into his mind, and he made his choice. Sheev drew his lightsaber…and jumped down several levels, to above where Kenobi stood now. He took a breath, drew in his presence just that inch further, and struck. The young man didn’t even have time to draw his lightsaber before he was cut through. Sheev drew back with just enough time to see the last of the life fade out of Jinn’s eyes. Then the Darkness faded, and he was left with the dead and the fallen.

He turned off his own blade, and turned back towards the gungan Sith. Glittering gold eyes blended neatly into the Sith’s slightly pink-hued skin. “Was that all?” Sheev asked with fake ease.

“Dat depends if yousa have the stomach for killing children.”

Sheev felt a push of unease, despite the Dark pressing him again. He could probably justify Kenobi to himself if he had to—he wasn’t particularly impressed by his age or the fight he’d seen, especially compared with the potentials of his own survival. And the knowledge the man offered as well, he supposed. He could even justify it to the Council if the need came—the other Sith had killed him, no reason to think otherwise. There was no way to tell what color lightsaber had made a wound.

But he’d set himself a few lines a long time before, and killing children was past that. Even if Jinn’s boy was a threat to his life by his mere existence, with the Sith in play.

“Suit yousaself, wesa have time.” The gungan turned and left, showing his back for a bare instant, knowing that he was safe. Sheev grumbled internally but jumped back up the platform to follow for the time being. It wasn’t like he had any other options.

* * *

“Jar Jar!” Jinn’s boy ran up to the Sith, grinning with exhilaration. “Did you see? It was wizard! I hit the control ship and it exploded! Pilot Hallen said I was a hero!” Then the boy caught sight of Sheev. “Oh, hello sir, who are you?”

The scale of the transformation was electrifying. The gungan Sith slouched forwards slightly, with open body language and just an edge of calculated clumsiness. “Dat’s great, Ani!” Jar Jar enthused, hugging the child. “And this is another Jedi Master, he came to help Master Jinn!”

“Wizard! I mean—uh—nice to meet you, Master Jedi, sir!” The boy took him in, heavily-modified robes and all, before taking a step back and dipping into a surprisingly respectful bow. “What’s your name? And where’s Master Jinn and Obi-Wan?”

Sheev looked down to meet the boy’s eyes, but carefully did not kneel. If he were careful, he may be able to make a better ally of this boy than the Sith ever could. “It’s unfortunate, but they went ahead before I could help. They came across an enemy Force-user—”

Ani interrupted. “The one that tried to kill Master Jinn on Tatooine?”

“Most likely,” Sheev intoned, internally stamping down on the urge to reprimand the boy. “They chased him deep within the Palace. They did manage to kill him before he hurt anyone else, but at a great personal cost.”

In front of him, Ani frowned. “Are they dead?”

“Yes. And I am greatly sorry.” Sheev eyed the boy briefly, before drawing him into a hug. He met Jar Jar’s eyes over the boy’s shoulder. This round went to him, and they both knew it. There was a small bit of wetness he could feel through his clothes, and Sheev fought back a wince. He didn’t actually have anything to change into if this got all snotty and wet, so the boy had better be worth it in the end.

By this point, Jar Jar had decided that enough was enough. His heavy Gungan accent made Sheev grimace.  “And mesa was so glad to see dat yousa’re okeeday, Ani! Da Queen was worried about yousa!”

Ani pulled back, wiping at his face with a sleeve. “The Queen, really? Is she okay?”

“I’m sure she is, but I’m also sure that she’s very busy,” Sheev glanced over at the partying pilots. Didn’t they know that the real challenge of rebuilding was just beginning? “But why don’t we see if there is somewhere we can set you up with some food. It’s been an exciting day, but it’s time to sleep.”

“I know! The pilots would know!” Ani grinned back at Sheev.

Now, Sheev could only hope that he wouldn’t see Kenobi and Jinn in his nightmares. Grudge or no, he knew a sith-spawned way to die when saw it, let alone when he dealt it out.

* * *

The next morning was a bustle of activity. Sheev spoke with Queen Amidala face to face for the first time. She had been suspicious, of course. Rightfully so. The thing that saved him a trip to the cells under the Palace was that he still had his signed orders from the Jedi Council to follow Jinn, which under examination he successfully passed off as orders to be backup. He made sure to tuck those securely to his person and to make a spare copy—Jar Jar would probably have been happier if he had gotten himself a trip to the dungeons.

Still, discussing the Jedi led to questions about burial practices, and what they should do with Jinn and Kenobi’s bodies. The discussion reminded Sheev that he needed to comm the Council, and decided to make sure that the pair burned before they could arrive. Kenobi’s wounds could be explained by the Darksider probable-ex-Sith apprentice, but it would be best to leave no room for doubt.

With their pyres scheduled and Ani set up with one of the handmaidens for breakfast and then a day with some of the other children his age in the Palace, Sheev finally made to excuse himself. He could do with the relative privacy of the room he’d been offered.

Instead, he got Jar Jar guiding him to a completely other section of the Palace. Sheev grimaced, taking in a breath as he saw the other’s hand come up. The sensation of being lifted off of the ground by his neck was unfortunately familiar, even if the Force was a new addition to the situation. And he couldn’t try to talk his way out of it. Sith take them both.

Or, perhaps not. That was how he’d gotten into this farce, after all.

“Aren’t yousa goen to throw mesa off?” Jar Jar smirked.

Sheev’s grimace deepened into a scowl as he tried to reach for the Force, only to feel the Light absent from his reach. This was not the way he wanted to touch the Dark properly for the first time, especially with the Council in his near future, but—he tried to take a breath, only for his throat to be forcefully closed further. Air was a priority. This would be a silly way to die.

He tried to use as little of it as possible. More loosening the knot around his throat then collecting his own to counterattack. He thought he had enough of a grip—and just in time, because the edges of his vision were spotting black. He pushed at it, took a small gasp. And convulsed at the first touch of whatever that was.

 _Force lightning_ , the back of his brain spoke up. Sheev thanked it with due sarcasm, and focused on not throwing up his hurried breakfast on his boots. A second bout of lightning came his way, and he nearly shouted before pulling together a small bit of the Dark and pushing Jar Jar back.

“Good.” The gungan’s eyes glittered before he turned and started walking in another direction. Back towards the guest rooms, Sheev recognized. He forced himself to catch up, but was ignored the entire walk back.

His throat was throbbing by the time he got back to his own room. He rubbed at it after the door was closed. He made a few test noises, gargled some water, and decided that it was best to get it over with now, before the bruises that were sure to be there darkened. He was going to have to find a robe from somewhere to cover them. Maybe steal Jinn’s and Kenobi’s from where they left them in the hangar, and locate some fresh clothes besides.

He was also going to have to locate or create a good excuse for Jar Jar’s death, because he wasn’t going to deal with this much longer.

He tried to get to the Light, if only because Force Healing was probably a good idea, but it didn’t come easily and he managed very little of it before giving it up as a bad job. And he still had to comm the Council to make it seem like he was lining up with their requests. Kark and blast. He started setting up the chat screen.

* * *

The next few days were the calm before the storm. Sheev had borrowed clothes for long enough to wash his own, and had arranged for and lit Jinn and Kenobi’s pyre. If the Council was coming, he couldn’t let them guess that his saber had been involved at all, and Yoda was canny as they came. He’d also spent as much time as he could with young Anakin while avoiding Jar Jar for as long as possible.

And now he had a few bare hours more to prepare for the arrival of the Council’s representatives. Master Yoda, of course, with a smaller contingent of knights and masters. Despite how current events was keeping her busy, the Queen had seen fit to offer them rooms as they needed, the ashes of their fallen members, and space for Sheev and Anakin as well. Rather generous of her indeed, even if it put him in close contact with the Sith.

If only he could just expose Jar Jar’s status to the Council. But with the stunt he’d pulled the first night, and two others since with similar effects, Sheev was sure his own Force presence would show as being tainted, and that was something he could ill afford.

While the Sith undisputedly had power, it wasn’t quite the power he wanted. It required him to loose too much control of his self and state of mind to the Dark. Of course the other spoke truly when he offered power, but if Sheev was going to thrive it was going to have to be on his own terms. If he gave in to his emotions and used the power he gained from that…well. That was a lesson he’d learned long ago.

Coruscant was his best chance at escaping Jar Jar, but he was going to have to get there first. Hopefully with Jinn’s boy in tow, because the thought of that much raw power being trained to work through Sith means gave him hives. Better to use that power more smartly.

That one, at least, was on the to-do list. He ran through it once more. It was rather short, and the first bullet item was to survive the meeting with the Council. Sheev yawned, but decided to check on the boy. He’d been having trouble sleeping, and if Sheev could get in on helping him already, the boy would bond with him that much more easily, and convince the Council that much more. And, as luck would have it, the boy was wandering the halls.

A robe and slippers were all he needed to track down the errant child. Anakin looked up at him when he turned the corner to the long-abandoned hallway. There were tear tracks on the boy’s face. _Kark._ “Ani?” Sheev asked gently.

“Master Sheev,” Anakin tried for a bow, but mostly ended up stumbling. “I don’t feel so good.”

“So I can see, child.” Sheev replied. Anakin winced, and Sheev held in one of his own—a misstep there. He would have to be careful. “Would you prefer to talk about it now, or in your own time?”

Anakin shook his head. “Master Sheev, what do Jedi do when they miss someone?”

Ah. So it was going to be one of these. This, at least, he’d been expecting. But he refused to let that show. “Well, that depends,” Sheev tapped his finger on his chin. “Are they one with the Force, or just a bit far away?”

“The second,” Anakin sniffled. “You have to think I’m stupid. Jedi don’t cry.”

“I think you’re a young boy who’s suddenly been taken far from home. And that time has not been easy on you.” Sheev gripped the boy’s hand in comfort. “And Jedi do cry, like any other being. Jedi can be sad, or angry, as long as they choose not to act primarily on those emotions.” As he demonstrably wasn’t doing. But the boy didn’t need to know that.

Another sniffle, and a quiet admission. “I miss my mom. I wanted to convince Master Qui-Gon to go back for her, but he’s dead now and I’ll never see her again. She said to be strong but Jedi are strong and I won’t be a Jedi, ‘specially if I’m crying.”

Sheev held in a sigh, and began to pat the boy’s back. This could take a while. He looked covetously over Anakin’s shoulder at the work he had to do before the Council arrived, but there was nothing to it. The boy just kept crying, until there were no more tears left in him, with Sheev’s robe looking like Anakin had tried to turn a desert lush on his lonesome. He tried to move the boy once he’d fallen asleep, but with the boy’s vice grip, it had been easier to just work around him.

Later, in the face of the Council’s judgment, Sheev will wonder why the Masters don’t take the boy away, and remand him to the initiate dorms. He knows, in the end, that he wouldn’t treat the boy as anything other than a piece in the game, a potential threat, and that could destroy the nascent power even more than the Sith.


	3. Chapter 3

Sheev was waiting by the landing pad when the Jedi ship arrived. Where else could he have been? The only question had been whether to take the boy. Would it be better to show Anakin clutching at his arm, an obvious figure of comfort, or safely ensconced away from Yoda? In the end, he left the boy to the lessons he’s been attending with the children of the palace. That introduction could wait.

Yoda’s gimer stick wouldn’t. It sounded on the metal of the landing pad as Yoda approached where he waited with the Queen and her retinue. He was followed by Masters Koon and Piell, and a quad of knights Sheev didn’t bother to identify. He thought they would bring another Shadow, but was surprised not to feel their presence. Perhaps he was yet trusted more than he’d thought.

Sheev tuned out the pleasantries to check on the masters in the Force. Yoda put up a good face, but even his prodigious shields couldn’t hide the edges of a strong grief. Suddenly, he remembered that Jinn and Kenobi were technically Yoda’s lineage.  

He was unsurprised that their first group stop was the pyre where the pair had burned. Yoda’s grief spread through the Force so strongly that for a moment he felt like he was trying to breathe saltwater. Frozen, he watched Koon crouch to place a hand on Yoda’s shoulder, and the Force breathed with them as Yoda’s grief was released from their senses.

 “And the boy?” Piell turned to Sheev once they’d all left the chamber except for Yoda.

“At lessons. He can’t write in Basic.”

A grunt of disapproval. “If he didn’t need to do it before, he won’t now.”

“Not even if I train him?” Sheev straightened his spine.

“You won’t,” Piell frowned. “Jinn was wrong to bring him before the Council when he knew the boy doesn’t fit the Search requirements. At best, he’d be sent to Educorps. If the boy has no family, he can be sent there, but that is the most we can do for him.”

“Even, peace,” Koon cut in. “We will meet with him after his lessons, and see what can be done with him.”

 _And give Yoda a moment to collect himself,_ went unsaid. Sheev wondered if that would work in his favor, or against him.

Sheev invited the remaining Jedi to take a meal with him and any of the Queen’s party who would be there. Jar Jar hadn’t shown his face yet, but Sheev hoped he would. If he could be tricked into showing his hand without Sheev revealing it… It was unlikely to pass, but Sheev had succeeded with worse odds. Then again, if he didn’t, Sheev would have the opportunity to tell his version of the story without any interference.

As if it had heard his plotting, the universe sent a third ship in his direction. Or, rather, a safe room on the new Jedi ship to speak freely within.

“Say the boy must be trained, Qui-Gon did.” Yoda scrutinized Sheev, searching for a response. “Agree with him, I do. But the particulars, they are in question, yes, yes.”

“I will train him,” Sheev insisted. He had to, or else Jar Jar would find a way, and force Sheev into obedience that way.

“Nine years old, he is. Amiss, some time in the crèche would not be.” Yoda pronounced.

 _If you mean for him to be a proper Sith, then no,_ Sheev thinks uncharitably. Yoda might like to spend time with the younglings, but he tended mostly to the gifted ones and the youngest. Yoda wouldn’t want to know how much the kids would tear Anakin apart for not being like them, just as soon as his novelty wore off. Sheev would know. He’d watched it happen before.

“There have been competent padawans taken on at nine,” Sheev replied aloud. Yoda made a noise, but Sheev kept going. “And I would sooner see him learn on a praxeum ship than in the Temple. They would be better prepared for his uneven knowledge.”

“If go, the boy does, to a praxeum ship, know Jedi he will not.”

Sheev grimaced internally. As a Shadow, he worked with the other branches of the Jedi more than most knights. The knights travelled, but the other corps lived all around the galaxy, and made for better sources of information. The Jedi were fractured between the knights and the other corps, and as he was reminded of it he dearly hoped that the Sith didn’t know just how easily the Jedi would shatter if pressed in just the right cracks.

“Then give him to me. I will teach him, and he will be amongst Jedi.” 

“No place for a young padawan, the Shadows are.”

Sheev swallowed down all of the things he had to say about that. The Jedi were backwards, and while Jinn and Xan and Kenobi were symptoms, the cause was hobbling here in front of him. For a moment Sheev imagined that it was Yoda in that generator complex, not Kenobi. He didn’t think he would have had as hard a time with himself for cutting this one in half.

And then he remembered himself, and brought himself back to the present. Yoda eyed him, but he said nothing. “Perhaps, best for the boy, three years with the Educorps will be.”

“Yes, Master Yoda.”

* * *

The trip back to Coruscant was tense. Sheev had eventually come to spin a tale about how Jinn and Kenobi went, fighting a Darksider beyond his reach, with him coming just too late to do anything other than make sure that Kenobi’s kill was actually dead, a story backed by his wrecked ship.

Anakin mostly kept to himself and the astromechs after being told that he was being sent away, much to Sheev’s consternation. The only good thing was that the Naboo delegation returning to Coruscant was on another ship, so the Sith couldn’t take advantage of the boy’s displeasure with the Jedi.

Kenobi was knighted post-mortem. The ceremony was held soon after he returned, publicly so that everyone would know about the Sith-Killer. He was going to become a name known by generations of Jedi to come, the one who gave his life to kill the first Sith found in near a thousand years, a tragic hero. Jinn as well, perhaps, depending on how much people ended up caring. Not Sheev, whose name was being kept out of it, but history was fickle that way.

Time as well, Sheev was soon to learn. Six months passed with relative ease after they got back from Naboo. He went on missions close to the Core. He’d also spent time consolidating some of his artefacts, hiding them better. He’d started a game of sabaac he didn’t intend to lose, even if he couldn’t see the whole board yet. Several times, he considered the direct route, but he didn’t trust the Council. They might not listen. They might decide he was involved as well for not telling them. They might listen, and lose.

He knew his chance for that had come to an end when, after six Sith-less months, Sheev found himself assigned to the Naboo senator after an assassination attempt.

Jar Jar Binks’s face frowned fearfully at the Jedi Council in the transmission he was given. Asking for his presence in particular due to the service he’d done Naboo not long ago. Windu and Yoda had both agreed to send him, despite it being so far away from his skillset as to be laughable for him to be asked.

Sheev forced a friendly look onto his face as he swept through the Senate halls. No one seemed to recognize him, but his Jedi clothing meant that the interns and pages, at least, moved out of the way for him. The closer he came to the correct door, the greater the pressure he felt through the Force. It became so much so when he reached the correct door that he had to stop and catch his breath before he could ring it.

He stepped through the door when it opened, and promptly fell to his knees, staring sightlessly at the ground. A hand grasped his chin and drew his face up. The gungan’s golden eyes glittered at him.

“Yousa’re finally here, mesa apprentice.” Jar Jar rose from the desk.

And then the world dissolved into black as Sheev felt his mental shielding give way.

* * *

He’d been guarding Jar Jar for three weeks when the first assassin made their attempt. It was rather simple for a Force user to deflect the blaster bolt, and the assassin remained unidentified. It was enough for the Jedi Council to approve of keeping him with Jar Jar.

In the meanwhile, the Sith Master had quite thoroughly established Sheev as his apprentice. It had started with the invasions of his mind. Sheev’s carefully hidden plans and artefacts were revealed each in turn. Every time Jar Jar touched his mind was a fresh violation, for all that he’d grown as accustomed as it was possible to to such invasions.

Then had come the first wave of punishments and disciplines. Some of it had been easy to write off, burns from katas and spars with lightsabers on low settings, such that he could even call it training if he hadn’t known the true intent. More pushing him around with the Force until he knelt, occasionally until he fainted. A few times it was events even more humiliating. The one thing he hadn’t expected was the lack of pain. There were many worse things he’d learned of Sith visiting upon their apprentices during his studies. And he’d been prepared to withstand them, because that was better than death.

Eventually, he came to be grateful. Instead, he was learning about the Sith’s wider goals, the ones he would likely be sacrificed for or expected to further, depending on whether Jar Jar killed him before Sheev killed Jar Jar. Not all of them, he was sure, but enough.

Perhaps enough to take to the Jedi Council, if they wouldn’t have tarred him with the same brush.

He spent nine more weeks guarding Jar Jar, deterring two more attempts, before he realized that he was never going to tell the Council, not unless he’d die if he didn’t. There’s nothing Jar Jar could do to break his self-preservation instincts quite that badly, and he could tell that the gungan wouldn’t expect differently.

The day Jar Jar searched his mind and saw his conclusions marked the next change in their relationship. As he knelt before the man he was supposedly guarding, Jar Jar touched his neck, then his face, and lifted until Sheev was straining, before kissing him. And palming him through his robes to bring him off over the desk.

That, Sheev didn’t really know what to make of. Sex without attachment wasn’t a problem. The Shadows in particular knew the value of that weapon, even if it was not one _he_ was often called upon for. Although putting one’s partner ahead of the Order’s needs was definitely beyond the pale, he’d already forsaken those vows the moment he advanced upon Kenobi. A moment of pleasure he never properly asked for anyway wasn’t going to change anything in the Order’s eyes.

But maybe it could in his. It gave him something the Sith Lord may truly want from him, for the first time. A bargaining chip, if he cultivated it right. He knew that the gungan also knew his own thoughts, but that didn’t seem to matter much. If anything, it made the other bolder. Perhaps to shame him—or perhaps just because he could. Sheev had been spending plenty of time on his knees.

And, if somewhere in there a year passed from their first meeting, they wouldn’t have known. Not until Anakin’s letter at any rate. The words were in shaky Basic lettering, about how he was advanced enough in his studies to write a pen pal, and how he hoped Sheev could keep in touch.

A person on a semi-permanent bodyguarding post is easy to reach, Sheev wrote back. It was good that the boy hadn’t forgotten him. He had his own best interest in mind when it came to wanting to teach the young powerhouse. Although from the sounds of things it would be a while yet on that score.

And perhaps teaching the boy is a nonsensical, hypocritical wish, if the Jedi were to find out that he was now the apprentice. One had to learn before they taught, and Sheev was learning much more than how to keep his knees from cramping after too long, and breathing around obstructions.

Jar Jar had been able to access many of the artefacts he’d only studied before. He also told Sheev more about the state of the galaxy than even his position as a Shadow, if not as much about the particular planets Shadow missions went to. He learned the Sith Arts, starting with how to hide in the presence of Jedi. Even now, their ability to hide in plain sight was novel.

The letters from Anakin continued, as did the lessons with Jar Jar. And every three or four months there was a new assassin, a new reason for Sheev to be on Coruscant. Perhaps it was a bit heavy-handed, and obvious, and sometimes he had to pay for the assassins to show up. Perhaps he missed the galaxy. But he would also miss the Sith if he’d left.

And if there was a sentence he’d never expected to think, it was that one. A second year passed, and Sheev went on occasional missions in the Core. Anakin’s letters became more frequent, and he doubted the praxeum ship would keep him much longer. Soon, the games would begin in earnest.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you think he’ll like me?” Anakin asked nervously.

The closer bluish Force projection smiled. “I doubt there is anyone in this galaxy who wouldn’t.”

The second laid a hand on the first’s arm. “But remember to be careful. Coruscant isn’t going to be like the _Dawn of Knowledge_. There are going to be people who you won’t be able to trust there, especially while the Dark shrouds it. Don’t forget who you are, Anakin.”

“I promise,” Anakin met both their eyes in turn. “I won’t forget.”

“Good—”

“But you’ll be there to remind me?”

The taller ghost burst into laughter, but the other met Anakin’s eyes with equal seriousness. “As long as you’re willing to listen, we’ll be here for you. The Force will be with you.”

The walls of the vessel shook as they bled off speed, surprising Anakin. “Be safe in the Force,” he requested. The Force ghost nodded, and both disappeared as Quelya burst into the room.

“We’re here!” Quelya squealed. Anakin looked out the window. The dark greys of Coruscant at night seemed like an omen that, with his warnings, he thought he ought to remember.

* * *

The day Anakin arrived at the Temple, Sheev was working. For a given value of working. He wondered briefly what the Council would think of his new hobbies and had to stifle a laugh. Jar Jar does whatever it is Senators do at his desk while Sheev keeps watch near the door, playing with different designs.

It’s been close to two and a half years since the mission to Naboo, and the boy has to be close to twelve now, if he isn’t already. Time and past for him to become a padawan.

And, if all goes well, an apprentice as well. Sheev cuts a glance over at the senator. The sex was better than he’d thought possible, but he’d rather be doing the mind manipulation than having it done to him. Somehow, he doubted that that was going to be a problem with the boy. Twelve was old enough for some opinions, but it was definitely an age of growth. He’d be free of Jar Jar soon enough.

That night, he was pulled into a Council meeting. Anakin was already there when he arrived. The boy may have been paler and his hair darker from the lack of sun shipboard, but his frankly daunting Force presence gave him away. Sheev had never felt power like this, not even when Jar Jar forced him open to the Force’s eddies. It was a tide that swept him off his metaphysical feet, and called for him to be left at sea.

Sheev shook his head to clear it and stepped up next to Anakin.

“Knight Palpatine,” Windu intoned. “You have been called here today to take on Anakin Skywalker as your padawan, as it was decided years ago. Has any reason surfaced to prevent such a pairing?”

“No,” Sheev replies evenly.

Windu turned to the child next to him. “And you are also amenable to this arrangement, Initiate Skywalker?”

“Yes sir.” Anakin straightened visibly.

“Then go forth with this Council’s blessing.” Windu sat back. Sheev didn’t think he looked pleased, but he also didn’t discern any strong negative emotion. He supposed that that was the best he could hope for, when all was said and done. He’d never been the Council’s favorite, and they hadn’t looked favorably upon Anakin either the last time he’d been subject to their plots and deliberations.

Sheev bowed regardless. Courtesy was a weapon easily wielded in such company. “Thank you, Masters.” He gestured to Anakin, who followed him as he walked back out the great doors.

Anakin, for his part, breathed a sigh of relief when they left earshot of the Council Chambers. Sheev looked down at him, only to find a hasty smile thrown at him “Hi, Master Palpatine!” Anakin enthused. “It’s really good to see you again, and not just the notes you sent, though those were nice too.”

Sheev pasted on a smile as well, and if it was slightly less genuine then Anakin wasn’t looking closely enough to know the difference right then. “Yes, it is. Now, what have they been teaching you since the last time we spoke?”

Anakin chattered at him all the rest of the way to their new rooms. Sheev made a point of showing Anakin he was listening while his mind was a thousand miles away, thinking about how to deal with the Sith’s interest in Anakin. It wouldn’t do for Jar Jar to have free access to the boy when he was working, not if he wants to live.

And if he felt the Force watching him as he prepared himself for sleep, it’s only paranoia from the hundreds of times the sanctity of his mind has been breached. He wouldn’t have seen the lone blue figure in any case.

* * *

“Mesa hears yousa has a new padawan, Master Jedi,” Jar Jar told him soon after. “Let’s see about him.”

Sheev managed not to choke on his mouthful as Jar Jar took the moment to go through his mind, sifting through for kernels about the boy, and others about Sheev’s newest plans. He eie as well as he usually does against such invasion; his mind was laid bare before the Sith, and it was unlikely he’d be speaking well for hours after Jar Jar stopped fucking him.

At least, that’s what Jar Jar sees. Sheev has had plenty of time to learn how this works, and what can pass under the scrutiny of his entire existence. He shows that the boy is willful and clever, his love of mechanicals and his hatred of politics. Beneath those, he slips the more sensitive conversations he’d had in the last couple days, and the plans those had spawned.

Jar Jar slipped out of his mind as he came down his throat, and Sheev couldn’t help but be grateful that he could breathe again.

* * *

Anakin truly was a sweet child, though there were occasional bouts of anger that concern the Council, even after years aboard the praxeum ship, learning how to control himself in the Force. Sheev reminded the Council that the praxeum ships weren’t meant to turn out little Jedi so much as Force sensitives who wouldn’t harm those around them and who could probably defend themselves from slavers, and they were appeased enough to let him off with a warning.

That still left him to deal with the behavior, however. The Jedi way would have been to teach Anakin to go through the causes of his anger, to see whether there was any true reason for it, and then to release that anger as they came to a solution.

The way the Sith Lord most likely would have advocated would have involved stoking that anger into a fire that burned beneath his skin, a well for the Dark to tap into at will. An element of emotional control would be involved, he was sure, but only enough to preclude discovery.

Sheev discarded them both. If he taught Anakin the Jedi way, all honor and sacrifice and martyrdom, Anakin would either take to it too well, or, more likely, rebel against all of them, starting with Sheev. And Sheev wasn’t about to let Jar Jar win either. The most profitable path lay elsewhere.

So, when Anakin became quiet and sullen, Sheev jumped right on it. “Padawan,” he tested. “What’s bothering you?”

Anakin shook his head.

“Anakin.” Sheev censured gently.

A gusty sigh with all the drama of a teenager came from Anakin’s general direction, and Sheev winced. “Some of the other padawans were saying things about how they were going on missions with their masters, and how they didn’t need remedial classes first, and about how they’d been doing them for _years_ because they were younger than me.”

Sheev had expected something along those lines sooner rather than later. He remembered just how insular and close-minded Knight-track Jedi could be. Enough to drive Xanatos finally around the bend, and enough to make the Sith seem like an attractive option even to him. There was no way they’d accept Anakin so easily.

“And are they here?” Sheev finally responded.

“No, but—”

“No buts. You’re my padawan, and none of their opinions matter because they aren’t.” Sheev put on a conspiratorial smile. “And between the two of us, I think you’re good enough for assignments, it’s just the Council dragging their feet, as usual.”

Anakin, predictably, brightened. “You think?”

“Of course.”

Anakin bestowed a beatific smile upon Sheev, the likes of which would warm the cockles of any heart lesser than a Sith’s, and returned to his tinkering. That was one crisis averted he was very glad not to be dealing with in full.

Let the Jedi cast down the first lines, and see which hypocrite came after them for being on the wrong side of them. Sheev wanted to express any number of reactions he’d had to the Council’s uneven pronouncements, and had since he’d been a junior padawan himself with his greatest friend thrown to the wolves. But, this close? He’d sooner marry a Twi’lek slaveboy than speak properly with the Council, who hadn’t done him any better service than letting him see Jinn die.

* * *

A week slipped into a month, which spun into four, and eventually Sheev ran out of excuses to keep Anakin away from Jar Jar, both officially and unofficially. He knew it was suspicious, but kark it if he wasn’t ready for the mess that this was all liable to create.

The fact of the matter was that boy didn’t have proper shielding. Teaching Anakin things that may be used against him was always a risk, but for what Sheev had in mind, he’d need subtlety and trust. Jar Jar might just go rummaging in the boy’s head for his anger, which Sheev was reminded existed in spades, and undo all of the careful work Sheev had put into him.

To be fair, guard duty was fairly innocuous. Even a padawan inexperienced with the political realm could be trusted to stand next to their Master on a cushy Senate assignment. And an assassination attempt with multiple attackers made for an excellent excuse to force the matter.

But it was always going to happen, Sheev reminded himself. If he pushed to get reassigned from a relatively safe job he’d been doing for years just after getting a new padawan, eyebrows would rise, which he could ill afford. Jar Jar had been ensuring his own tainted Force for years, after all. And there wasn’t a good reason he could give the Jedi Council for keeping Anakin out of the Senate building, especially after a few months of classes to train him for the specific assignment.

That didn’t change the fact that he felt he’d failed the moment Jar Jar brushed a hand against Anakin’s forehead in a gesture mostly appropriate for a Senator to a child.

Jar Jar was good enough that Anakin wouldn’t know that his mind had been excavated, but Sheev knew he was in for it the moment he saw that look in Jar Jar’s eyes.

Anakin was eventually sent away with a senior aide to teach him some of the ropes he didn’t _really_ need to know, given what Sheev knew about the origin of the assassination attempts, but which he’d be expected to follow up on anyway.

As for Sheev… Jar Jar sat behind his desk and gestured to the seat in front of it. If Sheev didn’t know better, it would have seemed an equalizing gesture.

“Yousa’re teaching him not to trust da Jedi.”

Sheev forced himself to meet Jar Jar’s suddenly burningly gold eyes and gave a mute nod.

“No. Yousa’re teaching him not to trust anyone but yousa.” Jar Jar corrected himself. “Smart, but it will not be enough.”

“No?”

“Yousa know better.”

 _We’ll see about that_ , Sheev thought, bowing his head slightly. He felt Jar Jar’s satisfaction in the Force, curled around him like an extra pair of arms. Sheev let himself feel it, but remained firm in the back of his mind. The last thing he needed at this stage was to be replaced by his own baby padawan for either having too much spine or not enough.

The next time that Jar Jar tried to invade his head to look for Anakin, Sheev shut him out purposely, with a touch of the Dark. Jar Jar was so pleased that he didn’t try a second time. And Sheev spent the next few hours on his knees, if only because he didn’t want to go back to the Jedi tasting of the forbidden fruit.

* * *

Anakin would never be an especially politically-savvy padawan. He remained stubbornly attached to Jar Jar for his role in freeing him, and as a result always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Oh, Sheev had _tried_ to teach the boy to be wary of anyone with a political agenda (which was everyone around him with any sort of power, especially if they could tell that _he_ had power, something that still confused him). It had even succeeded somewhat, if at inconvenient times—that one violet-hued insectoid senator would never be the same again.

It all came to a head at the first ‘assassination attempt’ after Anakin ended up on guard duty. The plan itself was rather pedestrian. An assassin snuck into the Senate buildings by posing as a page for a Mid-Rim senator. Once they’d gotten inside, they had made for Sheev’s office with several small but effective weapons.

Anakin was on the door shift, which he took as code for standing around like a child waiting for the principal while his master was doing adult things with the senator. They hadn’t _said_ as much, to be true, but Anakin was a former slave, and a teenager besides. He knew.

In any case, he’d been just around the corner when the girl got to the door, and he tried to call out to her to stop her. _He_ didn’t want to see what his master and the senator were up to, and he doubted that anyone else really needed to either.

He got a face full of sleeping gas for his troubles.

He’d tried to trip her as he fell, but she sidestepped him as the door opened, the adults hearing the commotion. His master got a blaster bolt to his torso, though Anakin was at a bad angle to see where it hit exactly. His eyes slipped shut as the battle continued, but he thought he’d seen a glint of gold in the senator’s eyes.

When he’d woken up, he was in the Temple’s Halls of Healing, with his master on a bed next to him, hooked up to twice as many machines as he was. His had started beeping when he’d woken up, and a healer soon descended upon him. His master had taken a bolt to the stomach, but the prognosis was good—and he’d be fine as soon as he had some more food and rest.

It was good news, except that he’d proven that he needed more experience to protect the senator properly, so they were going to be assigned elsewhere for a while. Maybe see some new planets, Master Yoda had said. Anakin had been cautiously excited, even if he felt bad for leaving the senator behind. And then his master woke up, looking like more of a mess than Anakin had ever seen him, and Anakin was suitably distracted for a while longer. They had at least a week before the Halls let them free, probably more—there was plenty of time to worry over his master before their next mission.

As a padawan, Anakin was old enough to be released while his master was still in bacta treatments. A little young, but he was thirteen and that was the Jedi way. He would have their usual shared quarters all to himself for a time.

It was an excellent time to reach out to the ghosts of Master Jinn and Obi-Wan, since no one would be looking for him.

Anakin found an empty training salle, and closed his eyes. He knew the magic didn’t require it, but for some reason it was what worked for him, making him feel closer to actually doing it, like they could just be _there_ without him doing anything, and—

“You’re frowning rather deeply there, Anakin” Obi-Wan chuckled. “Credit for your thoughts?”

 Anakin opened his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, right, Master Obi-Wan. You just want some entertainment.”

“You do an excellent job of that,” Obi-Wan promised, eyes twinkling.

Anakin huffed. “D’you wanna teach me a kata now?”

“With pleasure,” Obi-Wan bowed ostentatiously, sliding into the first position. Anakin followed, as he could. He was going to get stronger, to be able to defend his master.

For his own sake, Obi-Wan kept a careful eye on Anakin. He just wanted the best for this boy, his desert child who he hadn’t gotten to teach. His initial reservations had not survived years of watching Anakin grow with Qui-Gon at his side to help. And while Palpatine hadn’t seemed to be doing a terrible job, there were still things that Obi-Wan would make sure the boy experienced.

“Next pose,” he directed. Anakin followed, frowning in concentration.

* * *

Sheev was briefly assigned back to the Senate dome the month that Anakin was slated to go to Ilum with his agemates for a lightsaber crystal. He had no idea where the boy’s desire to learn Jar’kai had come from, but if he was going to seriously use it he would need for another crystal to choose him.

Sheev also became responsible for the largest piece of Dark, Sith magic he’d ever undertaken--creating a red crystal of his own.

As much as Sheev wanted to get away from the entire mess, he also had to say that he’d learned a lot, and that he didn’t _want_ to give up everything he’d done. He still had days when he despaired at himself for being a Sith, fearing the madness that was sure to come, but for the most part he’d come to enjoy it. There was plenty of knowledge to be had, new things to explore, and as much as the sex was rooted in dominance games, it wasn’t so bad either.

But he didn’t need those emotions to stabilize his crystal. He needed something that would be strong, something enough to be worth the risk he was taking in going along with this particular scheme.

It wasn’t exactly the point of no return. That may have been the moment he accepted that mission to watch Jinn in the first place. But it wouldn’t be so easily hid as using a touch of the forbidden had been. Two full days of marinating his mind and Force presence in the worst he had to give would do that—either that, or have a weak blade, which would just mean he would have to do it again or risk death.

But there was a second part to him, something deeper and growing, that told him that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He would have a better weapon to defend himself with, especially if the Jedi ever actually figured out how to be competent and found him out. There were records of strong Sith blades breaking Jedi sabers, and he wanted that power for when that day inevitably came. There would be no explaining this to the Council then, no forgiveness.

There was something that yearned to be heard, something that spoke of trickery to be used if it came to it, something of dismantling lightsabers with the Force if he could keep concentrating, something about choice and warping it out of shape, and something about tolerance and patience, but Sheev didn’t hear it.

Sheev also didn’t hear the quiet slip-slap of Gungan feet behind him.

He’d made his choice. The forming crystal began to glow red.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Anakin was sixteen the next time that he and his master drew a Coruscant rotation. After several years of honing his skills, he was being put up for his senior padawan assessment. He was _ready_ , and he knew it, but he’d also have to convince the Jedi Council, who would be a bit less sanguine about his skill levels, his Master had warned him.

But that was okay. Master Qui-Gon had said he was ready too, and even Master Obi-Wan said he was proud of him the last time they had been able to train together. He was going to ace his exams, and there was nothing that could stop him.

Even so, the Council was as forbidding as his master had said. They were solemn to a man, their existences barely rippling the Force as they searched his presence for any possible taint. Anakin had a brief moment of worry—he’d barely even been managing moving meditations lately, ever since they started being able to draw that civil war going wrong in the Outer Rim. They’d been told to make peace, but his Master was a Shadow, and Anakin was left to his own devices  more than once as his Master disappeared to do something. He wasn’t sure what had gone on, except that _he_ didn’t particularly want to become a Shadow.

But thankfully that part of the exam passed quickly enough, and Anakin was left standing in front of the Council, heart rabbiting as he awaited their decision.

“Senior Padawan Skywalker, congratulations.”  Mundi intoned. Anakin held in a whoop, immediately starting to vibrate with excitement.

“The rank of Senior Padawan is given to those who have shown the ability and strength of character to take the next step towards becoming independent Jedi knights,” Koon added. “You may start to be assigned to missions with Jedi other than your Master, as you begin to prepare for your knighthood and the path you will follow then in earnest.”

“Go forth, and may the Force be with you,” Windu finished. Anakin wasn’t sure if he imagined it, or if the tips of his lips actually quirked up for a moment.

Anakin bowed, clicked his heels once, and forced himself not to race out of the room. His Master was waiting for him in their rooms, no doubt doing their last mission report and turning a blind eye to the friends who wanted to celebrate his promotion. Anakin nearly ran all of the way back, and drew Sheev into a big hug the moment he saw him.

“I did it!” he gushed.

“So you did,” Sheev smiled into his hair, hugging back.

“I’m going to be a knight soon, just you wait and see!”

“I believe you.”

Anakin’s excitement died down quickly after that. The first mission that he went on as a newly-minted senior padawan was still with his master, something about the Gungans on Naboo. That was mostly because the Council was hoping that they knew more than most about the Gungans after having guarded Senator Binks for so many years. He didn’t remember much more than that, as he hadn’t thought it was all that interesting. It was mostly politics and the usual backstabbing mess.

What stood out to him was how Senator Binks had requested their presences once they returned, asking for information about what they’d managed to do. Most senators didn’t actually ask Jedi to visit them, but Anakin thought that it was good that the Gungans had a senator that cared for more than propriety.

The only thing he wondered about was what the Senator had said to rattle his master so. The first time they visited, his master had come out of the room shaking. It wasn’t how his master usually reacted to threats, so maybe it was news of a more sensitive nature. Anakin was well aware of the fact that he did not have the same level of clearance as his master, especially with him not being on track to follow him into the Shadows.

He’d mentioned the incident to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan later, but neither had much idea of what could have happened. Qui-Gon had decided to have Obi-Wan stay with Anakin while he followed Master Sheev around for a bit. As much as Anakin didn’t want them to leave him, a look reminded him that Jedi were not selfish.

Besides, Master Sheev had been unusually busy lately, and Anakin was getting worried. He liked Obi-Wan, of course, he felt like he had an older brother when he was with him. But he also wanted time with his master where he could get it. He on the path to knighthood, and once he officially became a Jedi Guardian of some variety he wouldn’t have a lot of it.

But it was okay. He’d learn to be good at his chosen path from Obi-Wan if his master wouldn’t spare him the time. And Senator Binks had surprisingly good advice sometimes, even if Obi-Wan disapproved of some of it.

His decision to be a Jedi Guardian did take him away from his master for missions more often than not these days, though. It was good. He was learning to be independent, and to solve the galaxy’s problems on his own. He’d heard that his master had tried to get them assigned together more often, but it was hard to say since he rarely saw him at the Temple these days.

Then again, he _was_ getting along just fine. Obi-Wan had a lot to say about Quinlan Vos the time they were assigned together, which was one hell of a mission to Dantooine, but they both survived it. More often, Anakin was being assigned to knights near Obi-Wan’s age as backup. He knew he was good in a fight, and he had learned how to leverage his skills in place of his bluntness to get him out of nonmilitary situations.

Qui-Gon had expressed his disgruntlement with the whole thing, especially after he hadn’t managed to turn up much of anything despite weeks of surveillance, because apparently there were things that kept out even Force Ghosts. Anakin wondered about that, but eventually forgot about it—his Master was into all kinds of weird things, and he was a _Shadow_. He had his secrets, but he was probably fine.

By the time he was eighteen standard, he was sure he would be knighted soon. He was on the younger end of the acceptable range, and if it was a year or two more he wouldn’t be surprised, but he was getting there and he was proud of it. He’d come so far from the initiate the Jedi didn’t want, even if thinking about Tatooine still hurt inside. Even his last knight-partners had agreed.

Of course, that was when he went and got himself assigned back at the Senate for the next three months.

* * *

Sheev’s first action upon returning to Coruscant was to take a quick shower to get rid of five days worth of grime and sweat. The second was the abbreviated report to the Council. The third was sneaking over to the Senate dome to spend some quality time with the Sith Master.

In hindsight, he had let himself fly too close to the stars. He was at least as strong as Jar Jar now, but there were few things he wanted to do less than to kill the other. To save his own life, he would do it, but he wasn’t sure if any reasoning short of that would suffice anymore.

It had started with the lightsaber crystal. The making of it was relatively simple, but _using_ it—there was never a time that Sheev felt so alive as when he was using his Sith lightsaber.

And it wasn’t like the Sith were harming anything. If Jar Jar wasn’t the Naboo senator, it wasn’t like much would be different. And with Sheev spending so much time at the Senate, it wasn’t like they were influencing much off Coruscant. And, if Jar Jar was angry, he’d take it out on Sheev, not random innocents. Sometimes that meant sex. Sometimes that meant force lightning. And, when the man was very angry, he threatened to kill him and replace him with Anakin.

The last one did concern him, as infrequently as it came around, and it was on that one that he felt the need to act. With the murmurings that Padmè Amidala would supplant him in the next Senatorial election, Sheev could sense the need to act growing in Jar Jar. It felt like every day that passed, his position became more precarious.

And it would be relatively easy for Jar Jar to get his hands on Anakin if Sheev died. He had been a hero at Naboo, and soon it would be a decade since the invasion. He’d already milked Sheev’s involvement as much as he could, with the length of time he’d spent under the Senate dome because of it, but Anakin’s value there was much less used up. All it would take would be to invite the boy to the planet for a celebration, and then find some trouble that would require a Jedi, or at least that the boy would feel the need to solve.

Somehow, Anakin had become a much greater Jedi than Sheev would have thought possible. It was teenaged rebellion, perhaps, but it needed to be planned around nonetheless. In any case, Sheev didn’t expect things to even get that far along, not if he had anything to do with it.

It was still a pity, though. He’d hoped to accomplish great things with Anakin. He could still attempt to kill Jar Jar… He’d probably die in the attempt, and the Sith had done a great deal to separate his padawan from his influence even without being a Jedi, so Anakin wouldn’t avenge him. Perhaps right after he lost the election would be a good time for it, on the brink of fading into obscurity with no good reason for an investigation.

In either case, Sheev was aware that if he wasn’t already a full Sith, he would be becoming one. But the point of no return was ages past, and it wasn’t like if he died right then he’d die a proper Jedi.

One more three-months rotation in the Senate until the next election on Naboo, and by then Sheev will have to have done something, or on his head his own death would be. And if he had his way, he would be assigned to it.

He was reasonably glad to see that Jar Jar was in—if his report wasn’t going to be late, he might even be able to feel his toes in the next three days. He winced. His padawan might be an actual Jedi, but so had he been, once. And, Sith interference aside, he still had a good idea of what made him tick. Neither of them would have to worry about force lightning.

As it turned out, Sheev was right to worry about rubber fingers and toes the next day. Once proper punishment had been doled out for his ‘failure’ in his mission to locate some artefact or other. As much as Sheev enjoyed his study of artefacts, Jar Jar had been testing that lately. He’d slunk back to the Temple and slept for a day, before receiving the expected assignment from the Council. He hadn’t been able to hide his physical shape all that well, so he’d been assigned another day of rest first.

If only they knew that that would go harder with him.

But, for now, he was back in the Senate. Anakin would be gone for at least another week more, so he had some space to figure out what he was going to do properly. He eyed Jar Jar from across the room. The gungan stood from his desk and came over when he saw him looking.

“Dis isn’t too hard for yousa, is it?” Jar Jar whispered into his ear, guiding his hands through the motions again. Today, it was a basic Sith ritual using a holocron, imbuing it with his own spirit for future filling. It was also a test. The state of his Force would be evident in how Light or Dark the resulting holocron felt. There was no hiding, like he did with the Jedi.

He knew what someone who found it would feel. After all this time, his Force was Dark. He didn’t even properly regret it—he may not have chosen this for himself, but he had opened himself up to the ambiguities of the Force years before he’d ever thought the Sith yet lived, and he’d touched the Dark many times since. He may still not want to be quite the kind of Sith that Jar Jar was, but he would be misguided to call himself anything other than a Sith and a Darksider.

And that was what that holocron would show, to anyone who could understand it. His fingers tightened on the object. “It’s fine,” he uttered.

“Again,” Jar Jar instructed.

 Sheev complied. He could _feel_ the Dark on his presence this way, and he reached out to that, tamping down on the anger and bits of strange lust he felt towards the Sith master. He hadn’t quite decided whether to kill Jar Jar or to kill Anakin, but he knew he would have to decide soon.

* * *

Anakin held in his force presence as he picked his way through the Senate dome, down the familiar halls to the Naboo offices. He knew that his master was expecting him in about a week, but his mission had wrapped up early, and he wanted to see if he was good enough yet to surprise the man. He hadn’t seen him in person in a good while and sneaking up on Sheev would probably impress him.

As he got closer, he subtly checked the Force. Nothing was scheduled for today that should take them out of the office, but Anakin would be the first to agree that life didn’t always go as expected. But the Force…Anakin frowned, stopping in a shadowed corner and trying it again. Something was off with the Force. He’d noticed that Coruscant felt strange to his senses, like looking into a muddy puddle after the clarity he’d had when he’d learned on the _Dawn of Knowledge_ , but this was something else.

This Force felt flat out Dark, like the smoke from his ashes, or from his anger. Anakin wrenched himself away, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He wanted to run in to the offices, ask his Master why the Force felt like it. He wanted to run back to the Temple, and pretend there was nothing wrong.

But he pulled himself together. He was almost a knight. He wasn’t a Shadow, but he’d spent many years learning from one, and he knew enough to sense that there wasn’t a battle or anything going on.

Anakin was going to figure out what caused the Darkness he was feeling. And then he would bring it to his master, or maybe even the Council. Wouldn’t that be one way to show he was ready for knighthood!

But, first: Anakin retreated several hallways, before letting a trickle of his presence out into the Force, and made sure to have a conversation with a passing aide he recognized. Anything, so that whatever caused it wouldn’t think he knew. And when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon came around again, maybe he’d be able to prevail upon them for help one more time.

Whatever it was, it was definitely hiding from him in particular. There was no trace of it when he finally got to the Naboo offices. There was just the Senator and his master chatting about one senate matter or another, welcoming him back easily and if nothing was amiss.

The next inkling Anakin had that something was off came a week or so later, again when he was early for a shift because the Council had decided not to give him an assignment on Coruscant that both Anakin and his master had expected. It hadn’t been particularly important, so Anakin’s pride wasn’t overly harmed, and he thought it made a good second chance for sneaking up on Sheev.

He was even excited to be in the Senate complex for once! The Dark was there, he noted, though perhaps not quite so strongly as before. He hadn’t been imagining it. It dampened his mood slightly, but he decided to let it go. Perhaps it was dissipating on its own?

In any case, it didn’t take him too long to get to the offices. It wasn’t a high-traffic hour, so he wasn’t stopped in the halls. He was nearly going to open the door, when Obi-Wan appeared out of nowhere, walking through it. It surprised Anakin enough to stop him in his tracks. He’d never seen a blue Force Ghost look so green before.

And then Anakin heard the noises. That was _his Master_ , and the _Senator_ and they were having _sex on the desk the Jedi used when they worked there_. That was definitely the sound of the lamp Anakin liked falling to the ground. And the Force was Dark again, washing over him like a scream. There was a moment where he felt cold, and alive as he’d never felt. It lit up his nerves like lightning.

That’s when he heard the yell. Anakin would have gone running into the room if Obi-Wan hadn’t shouted at him. It took him a moment to realize that that was a yell of some kind of pleasure…which was something he was not at all prepared to deal with. He spun around and left, not focusing on anything but getting away, not really processing anything until he got back to the Temple proper. He looked up at Obi-Wan, who had followed him quietly, as he sat in a small garden. “What do I do now?” Anakin asked.

“Sex, it isn’t against the Code,” Obi-Wan stuttered. “But, uh. Only as long as your master can be objective about it.”

“I know _that_ ,” Anakin scoffed. “But what about the Force? It was Dark.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“He could have had something to do with it, your Master,” Qui-Gon faded in. Both the younger men turned to look at him. “I’ve never liked Sheev Palpatine, and I wouldn’t put it past him to be involved in those sorts of things.”

“He wouldn’t be!” Anakin protested. But when he looked, Obi-Wan seemed to agree with Qui-Gon, leaving Anakin to look down at his hands. “He wouldn’t,” he repeated, less vehemently this time. “My master is a Jedi. I know it.”

And he genuinely believed it. He knew his master, a man who was near enough his father. He was going to have to keep checking, because something was obviously going on, and maybe he needed help, but he wouldn’t believe that the man had Turned.

He didn’t see Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan giving each other sad looks in the background.

* * *

Anakin was a man on a mission. Or at least that was what he’d told Master Sheev, with all the appropriate emotions. His master, true to form, had made a few snide comments about the Council and overwork, praised him for being so well-trusted, and set him on his way, unknowing that _he_ was the mission.

Anakin spent his days doing a mix of following around his master, and searching out the strange Darkness in the Senate when it appeared. If only he could figure out what it was, he could fix it, and bring the Light back into that place properly.

He’d known before that his master had sex with the gungan senator. He’d known it since he was a new padawan and realistically it had probably been going on for longer. But he’d never before noticed that the Force got Dark around the pair of them so frequently. Anakin wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. It wasn’t like his master felt Dark when he was there, and the office was just as normal as any other office when they weren’t in it.

At least, that’s what he’d presumed until he searched it. He hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary, until he started looking in the Force. There were at least three Force-locked hidden spaces. He wasn’t sure if unlocking them would set off any alarms, but he resolved to be quick about it and do it while the Senate was in session and they would both be gone.

It worked beyond his imagination. The first thing he found was a lightsaber he didn’t recognize. Curious, he turned it on. Red. Damning bright Sith red, with the hiss-crackle of an unstable crystal. The last time he’d heard a crystal like that, is was in his friend Quelya’s lightsaber, after it had gotten stepped on by a rampaging nerf herd. She’d had to go to Ilum for a replacement crystal after that. But this? There was no fixing this. You can’t fix something that was made broken.

Anakin clipped the saber to his belt. He had something to show the Council now. They would have to listen to him. Something bigger than he could deal with on his own was going on here. Gooseflesh prickled as Anakin closed the space and prepared to sneak out of the room.


	6. Ending 1

Anakin’s heart stopped beating for a moment when he heard the _snick_ of the lock. He looked towards the main door, and it opened to reveal Senator Binks, alone for once. Anakin spared a moment to wonder where his master was, before realizing that Senator Binks had yellow eyes. Sith-yellow eyes, not gungan-yellow. “Anakin,” he purred.

 “Senator Binks? What’s going on?” Anakin stuttered. His Force ghosts appear between the pair of them, and Anakin spared a glance at them before returning to the Senator.

“Mesa think that yousa’ve figured it out.”

“You’re a Sith,” Anakin breathed. He didn’t want to believe it.

“Yous Master is a Sith,” the Sith Master told him. “A rather murderous one too! Or who did yousa think killed young Obi-Wan Kenobi? Hesa is rather scary man, Anakin.”

Anakin fingered the activation button on his lightsaber. His master, too? He glanced over at Obi-Wan, whose lips were pursed so tightly that if he still had blood they would be white. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but if his master had…

“And what do you think I’m going to do about that?” Anakin asked curiously.

“Yousa must kill him, before hesa kills us too!”

Anakin just breathed for a moment. It was too much. The Senator and his Master, both Sith, and at least his Master a murderer? How had he managed to miss that, all of these years? But there was one thing he did know—there was no making deals with the Sith. Either they wanted to kill you, or to Turn you to the Dark, and Anakin intended on doing neither. “No.”

“No?” he seemed flabbergasted.

“No,” Anakin repeated, and drew his lightsaber to parry the Sith’s. The gungan was _good,_ but didn’t have his level of muscle memory, he noticed. It made sense—he doubted the man usually had to fight with the Force.

And then a bit of Force lightning pushed through his defenses, and Anakin went down groaning. “Join me,” the senator bade him.

“No,” Anakin repeated, and flicked his blade. The Sith’s sword arm came off above the wrist, cauterizing instantly. While the Sith reacted to that, Anakin had already put his blade through the man’s heart, and sliced it out towards the side. He turned off his blade as the man died, wondering what had just happened, and what he was going to be able to say for damage control. Anything to not focus on the fact that he’d just killed a man he’d regarded as a longtime friend.

That distraction nearly became his downfall. Only his instincts saved him from the other lightsaber  that waved only iches away from his skin. His master’s lightsaber was still Jedi-blue, but his eyes were all at-least-half-insane Sith-yellow.

Anakin stood, and unhooked the second lightsaber from his belt. It may be red and unstable, but his master knew all his tricks, except Jar’Kai, which he’d planned to keep secret until the right moment in practice.

It’s not enough. Anakin found a blue saber through the handle of the red saber, taking with it several of his fingers and half his hand. The next blow he misses cuts him nearly in two. He’s dead almost before he hits the ground.

Sheev, looking at the carnage around him, starts laughing. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected this count end any differently. They had been reaching for the sun, and not looking at their wings melting in the meanwhile. He hadn’t expected Anakin to find out early, and he’d expected even less for the madness of the Dark side to set in when Jar Jar fell to Anakin. He hadn’t wanted to kill his padawan, not like this.

He’s still laughing when the Senate Security Forces arrive, and they shoot him when he fails to cooperate. His third to last thought was that the SSF was staffed by idiots. His second was about the dead. And his last thought was about a set of documents on the desk he’d never look at again, one that sent the best friend of a Jedi lineage Sheev hated on a wild goose chase, to create the clone army. Civil war would have been an excellent way to gain power, if only they hadn’t died first. He wonders if the Jedi will ever learn that they have an army. He died choking on his own blood as the SSF checked out the corpses.

Anakin popped up next to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, and promptly got the best hug he’d had in his entire life. He hadn’t processed death yet, but his chosen teachers were as proud of him as he was in himself. He’d taken down the last of the Sith, Obi-Wan reminded him.

He was just another dead hero destined for the kinds of history books the younglings loved. He guessed he would just have to live with that. Maybe he’d wander off to keep an eye on his mom, now that he could.


	7. Ending 2

In another time, and another space, the last thing Anakin would have done was go to the Council when he found out about this Sith. But in this one, that’s exactly what he did. Flanked by his two Force ghosts, Anakin slid into the queue to see the Council, twisting a loose thread off his cloak nervously as he waited.

He hadn’t actually realized that Qui-Gon had left until Dooku settled down next to him. Anakin looked up, startled, but the older Jedi was still looking at Qui-Gon. Finally, Dooku refocused onto Anakin. “Hello, young Skywalker. My old padawan tells me that I might be interested in what you have found.”

“Did he—tell you?” Anakin glanced sharply over at the ghost.

“Only that you could use my expertise.” Dooku was too proudly elegant to shrug, but the motion was in his voice.

Anakin nodded, and sat back. They passed the time in silence, even though he could feel Dooku’s burning curiosity. It wasn’t much longer until it was their turn to speak to the Council. The doors felt lighter than he remembered as he pushed at them.

“Masters,” Anakin bowed.

“Why have you come, Skywalker?” Windu pushed.

It was the moment of reckoning. Anakin unclipped the Sith lightsaber from his belt and lit it. There were several gasps, and Yoda in particular seemed suspicious. “I felt stirrings of the Dark  in the Senate, and when I checked them out, I found this in Senator Binks’s office.”

“And your Master, where is?” Yoda asked. The other Councilors quieted once Yoda took control of the conversation.

“I don’t know.” Anakin’s voice cracked. “He was there when it was Dark, I could feel him. I didn’t know if he could be involved, so I investigated on my own, and came straight here.”

Yoda harrumphed, before turning to Dooku. “And your part in this, what is?”

Dooku bowed. “I was alerted by the Force that I could be useful here. Nothing more.” He took the lightsaber from Anakin, and disassembled it to remove the crystal. After studying it for a moment, he declared: “This is definitely a created crystal, like the ones used by the Sith of old.”

“If there’s a Sith, we have to kill them,” One Councillor shouted.

“If the senator is a Sith, we must act carefully,” Plo Koon counseled. “The Senate will not take it well if they see Jedi attacking one of their own without what they would consider a reason.”

“We always knew Sheev Palpatine was a rotten egg,” Another added.

As the arguing went on, Anakin found himself drawing in to himself. He had been expecting help, not respected Jedi squabbling like younglings. Obi-Wan touched his shoulder in comfort, and he was grateful, but it was still too much.

He didn’t notice that Yoda was watching him particularly. After a short while, his gimer stick rang out against the floor, silencing the room. “A job for the Shadows, this is.”

“But Palpatine _is_ a Shadow,” someone pointed out.

“True, that is, but the first line of defense against such threats, the Shadows are. Trust them in this, we must. Follow Senator Binks and Sheev Palpatine, teams will. If Sith they are, kill them we will. Suffer Siths to live, the Jedi do not.” Yoda cracked his gimer stick against the floor again.

“Very well,” Windu agreed. “Thank you, Padawan Skywalker, for bringing this to our attention. If you would submit to an examination to ensure that you are free of Dark taint, this Council would appreciate it.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tightened on Anakin’s shoulder, and Anakin agreed. “When and where?”

“Right now, if you have nowhere else to be.”

* * *

As soon as they found that Anakin was free of the Dark, preparations began in earnest. He was to assist the Shadow teams as necessary, because he knew their protocol and because neither of the targets would think seeing him would be weird.

In the two weeks that followed, the teams found several pieces of evidence that showed that both Jar Jar Binks and Sheev Palpatine were Darksiders at least, and probably Sith, since both had been seen with Sith-yellowed eyes. That was when the last preparations began in earnest.

In truth, this was the part that Anakin felt the worst about. His Master, and someone he’d known for just as long, were about to die, and he was a big part of what had brought them there. He told himself that it was just a cosmic realization for their decisions, but he couldn’t shake his guilt, even after meditating with both Force ghosts and several Councilors.

He’d been all but told that he would be knighted for this, if it worked, or at least given a chance to undergo the Trials. For all that he had been excited about them beyond belief a month before, now all he felt was guilt. His Trials would be tainted by blood.

He was there, the day that they both died. The Senator had spoken pretty, desperate words to him, trying to turn him, to defend against the Shadow strike team. His Master had just looked at him with a smirk, and told him that he was a proper Sith for striking down his Master before he could be killed.

They arranged it so that it looked like Senator Binks had been killed by one of the assassins that tested security so regularly that he needed a Jedi, and that Palpatine had died defending him. Weeks passed, and the set-up passed the scrutiny of the Senate security forces. Anakin watched as Naboo held a quickfire election for a replacement, coming up with former queen Padmé Amidala. She was pretty, but Anakin couldn’t stand to look at her and remember what he’d been a part of.

He succeeded in his Trials, and asked to be assigned away from Coruscant for his first mission and year. Understandingly, the Council sent him to liase with an Agricorps venture as a security detail, and Anakin got into the habit of those sorts of assignments rather quickly. He met Qui-Gon’s first padawan on one of them, a tall, friendly human named Feemor who took him under his wing. It wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting to do, but he found that it suited him well enough after everything.


	8. Ending 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a third alternate ending to this story, also beginning right at the end of Chapter 5. This one is probably the happiest ending of the bunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Darth_Videtur. Thank you for being my first commenter on this story, and for the lovely compliments!

Anakin put up his hood to show that he was busy and made his way back to the Temple as quickly as he could. His heart thrummed a bird’s wings as he digested what it _meant_ that he’d found a Sith’s lightsaber.

He’d thought that there might be a Dark artefact of some kind, something that could have been collected or kept for a reason. Something valuable, worth hiding in case of an intruder or even an intern with itchy hands. Something that could have been explained away.

Now, his worldview was shifting to accommodate the fact that either Senator Binks, who had always treated him with care and respect, or his Master, who had cared for him enough to respond to his letters and listen to his rants about mechanics and teach him much of what he knew, was a Sith. It felt entirely incomprehensible. But what other explanation was there for a Sith’s lightsaber? And if he couldn’t trust his mentors, then who could he trust?

Just as he had been about to work himself into a frenzy, Anakin caught sight of Qui-Gon from the corner of his eye. Not all of his mentors were Sith, he remembered.

He’d thought to go straight to the Council, but surely Qui-Gon had some advice for him if he was following him. Anakin nearly redirected to the rooms he shared with his Master, before realizing what they were, and finally found himself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He settled near the top of a fountain that made a waterfall, and turned to the ghost who had followed him.

“Master Palpatine is a Sith,” Anakin said, tasting the words on his lips like a child who had never tasted wine.

“He might be,” Qui-Gon allowed. “But not long ago you said he must be a Jedi. Search your feelings, Padawan. Do not let yourself be satisfied with anything less than the truth.”

Anakin grasped onto that advice, and the red lightsaber, with both hands, and opened his eyes. Although neither psychometry nor visions of the past were among of his gifts and talents, the Force answered him when he called. He drifted in it, not noticing as the lightsaber came apart, floating in pieces around him, as he did.

He saw Master Palpatine, kneeling in Senator Binks’s personal quarters in the Senate dome, alone. Floating in front of him was a lightsaber crystal, although not one of the ones from Ilum judging by its sunny yellow color. Anakin wondered where it had come from, and what was screaming. He realized that it was the crystal just as it turned red. The vision began to fade, but not before he saw Senator Binks come up behind him, with Sith-yellow eyes, and begin to undo his clothing.

The lightsaber snapped together with a clang as Anakin came out of it, the crystal slightly quieter now that it had told its tale. It was waiting for him to do something. And, as Anakin checked back around his surroundings, so was Obi-Wan.

“Master Palpatine and Senator Binks are Sith,” Anakin told him, face twisting in grief. “What do I do?”

Obi-Wan sat down at the edge of the waterfall, humming. “You don’t know, but this waterfall was an important place for me as a child. One of my peers, Bruck Chun, was a liar and a bully, and he hated me. When it looked like he wasn’t being chosen to be a padawan, he started doing desperate and bad things. He worked with a darksider and nearly blew up the Temple.”

Obi-Wan paused, and Anakin forced himself to bite back his tongue. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were often cryptic, but he didn’t have time for that!

“Patience,” Obi-Wan chided, catching Anakin's expression, before continuing. “After Bruck’s plot was foiled, he and I found ourselves here. He went over the edge, and I wasn’t able to catch his arm. I will never forget his look of surprise and horror as he went over the edge. He was repentant, but died instead of being able to act again for the sake of good.”

“But wouldn’t he have been locked up, if he tried to blow up the Temple?” Anakin asked.

“He would have faced consequences, yes. But even then if he had learned, he would have been rehabilitated, and been able to change.”

Anakin hummed, plucking the lightsaber out of the air and staring at it.

“I cannot tell you what to do, because that must be your decision,” Obi-Wan said gently, “But consider what you know of your Master, and what you saw. I believe that you are a great Jedi, and that you will make the right choice.”

* * *

_Three Years Later_

Anakin had once thought he would feel triumphant when he completed his trials. Except, as he strode out of the Chamber of Balance, twenty-one standard and ready to face the world, all he felt was tired. His exhaustion must have shown to the Council, and, after Yoda cut his braid, he was told to get some rest.

The first thing he did with his braid was unravel it. He’d worn his in a four-stranded plait for the last two years. Now, he undid the plait, carefully binding off each strand. He handed the first one to Yoda.

“Thank you for finishing my apprenticeship, grandmaster.” Anakin told him.

Yoda smiled, and patted Anakin on the head. “Great honor, this is. Thank you, I do.”

Several people noted the other strands, but no one said anything. Anakin bowed to them all, and left. His second stop was the crematorium. Anakin lit a candle there, and burned two of the remaining strands, one at a time, as Qui-Gon, and then Obi-Wan, appeared in front of him. Once the hair was burned, it reappeared in their hands.

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon said, eyes shining with tears. Obi-Wan looked at the portion he held with undisguised wonder. Anakin smiled to see it. His mentors deserved whatever he could give them, for all of the support they gave him.

“Of course,” Anakin said. He blew out the candle, and the ghosts disappeared.

Anakin had one more stop he had to make. His hand clenched around the last strand of his braid as he went back to one of the places he knew best in the Temple. When he reached the right door, he knocked, and then accessed the biometric passcodes to let himself in.

Jedi Palpatine was sitting at the table, the remnants of what might have been a meal or a snack in front of him. “Anakin,” he said warmly. “Congratulations.”

Anakin approached him. “For you,” he said, holding out the rest of his braid.

Palpatine’s hands shook slightly as he took it. Two years ago, it would have been from the exposure to Sith lightning, but the healers had managed to deal with most of the effects of that. He'd been stripped of his rank but not his dignity. “But don’t you have someone more appropriate to give this to?”

“You’re my Master. Of course it’s for you,” Anakin took the dirty plate to the sink as Palpatine stared in wonder. He grinned—it wasn’t every day that he got the better of his old Master, even now that he was Temple-bound.

Things were better. On Qui-Gon’s recommendation three years before, he’d appealed straight to the Jedi Shadows’ commander. He’d been told that they would take care of it, and in less than a month they had had his master and Senator Binks in custody. From then, his life had been a revolving door of mind healers and physical doctors. He still didn’t know what had happened to the Senator, only that Naboo had been forced to run new elections when he’d been missing too long, but his Master had spent months in the secure ward as the Jedi worked to restore him to the Light.

Yoda hadn’t thought it possible, and he’d said as much when he took on the last portion of Anakin’s apprenticeship, but Anakin disagreed. His Master would probably be monitored all his life, but the mind healers had said that, under it all, he didn’t want to be evil, or even Dark. With Palpatine's help and someone to mediate between him and the Council, his old master had pushed back towards the light. And, unlike what they had expected of Sith, he hadn't even really hurt people, or at least those who hadn't tried to harm him or his charge. And that fit what Anakin had seen from him ever since he’d been allowed to visit.

Not that he’d doubted it. Anakin was a Jedi, and a good one. He knew how to recognize one of his own, and his Master was definitely getting back there, he’d just needed a little help to combat the Sith.

The man who had defied the Sith to make a Jedi out of him definitely deserved part of the proof that he’d succeeded, and Anakin was happy to give it to him.  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Only Good Sith [ARTWORK]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721024) by [Jen425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen425/pseuds/Jen425), [starwarsbigbang (lilyrose225)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrose225/pseuds/starwarsbigbang)




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